The Flatmate
by sassybenny
Summary: Teenager Jim Moriarty and his dad are Sherlock's new flatmates


Sherlock had shouted up to Ms Hudson about keeping the noise down but he figured she just hadn't heard, so he continued to shout louder for the final time- before stretching his hand out and reaching or his fun. Just at that precise moment, John walked through the door.

'Jesus Sherlock, put the gun down'

'Humph' Sherlock replied.

The noise in the flat upstairs was unnecessarily loud and he needed silence in order to solve his current difficult case. He closed his eyes to try and escape to his mind palace, but it was too chaotic so he scrunched his eyes up and curled into a ball on the sofa. John looked at his friend, discomfort was written on his face. He constantly worried about him, Sherlock had been under more stress ever since Lestrade had dumped the current case on his shoulders. Whatever deductions Sherlock made, they all lead to a dead-end and every time Sherlock took defeat harder. John knew he was hurt that someone had final managed to outsmart him, and his pride had taken a battering. He prayed that they caught the culprit soon, but in Sherlock's current state it would take a while.

Sherlock uncurled himself and looked at John, maybe he knew what was causing all of the noise.

'Where's Mrs Hudson?

John blinked and replied 'downstairs helping out'

'Helping who?!' quizzed Sherlock.

'The new flatmates of yours, Sherlock. Did you not listen when I told you last week?

'Obviously not' sulked Sherlock.

He hadn't expected John's upstairs flat to be occupied by someone else so quickly. John and Mary had only been married and living together for two months- it was too soon. John knew his old flatmate well, and how Sherlock was able to portray little emotion but he was aware that his departure had been taken badly. Sherlock thought he was clueless, but even John couldn't help but notice his best friends tired, worn out eyes and greasy messy black locks. He worried that he would eventually fall back into the clasps of his past drug addiction, and old habits, which had haunted both Sherlock and John's mind.

'You should meet them' John broke the silence.

He didn't expect an answer but it filled the air.

'No, not today' John nodded.

'I could tell you a bit about them- fill you in, make you laugh at some of my deductions''

Sherlock smiled 'oh, John! I'd love to hear it'.

'Ok then. One teenager- I'm guessing around 14 years old, he looks pretty scrawny. His dad, a lorry driver, so therefore probably not home often. So, the son could be neglected?'

Sherlock giggled 'good... Attempt John'

John silently sulked, how could Sherlock already know more than him, when he hadn't even met the pair yet?

'Go on then, tell me where I went wrong'

'The boy's 15, just small for his age. The dad is a lorry driver so well done on that, but he doesn't neglect his son, he actually probably cares the most about him in the boy's life, why else would he rent a flat with an old lady and man. He is however, bullied, but they recently moved from Ireland so he will be joining a new school- fresh start for both of them, probably leaving because of the mother.'

It always amazed John, at how Sherlock could deduct people. I mean, he hadn't even been that close to the new flat mates, and yet he was able to know all of that by just glancing out the window.

'I've got to go, date with Mary- it's our anniversary today. She sends her love, just came over to you know, see how things were.'

'You don't need to check up on me John, I am a grown adult.'

Smirking, John whispered 'of course', and let himself out of the flat with a wave of the hand from Sherlock. As he walked down the stairs he bumped into the boy. The first thing that struck him was how skinny the boy was, and the slim fitting black suit he was wearing, which he thought was odd- surely teenagers are meant to wear jeans and hoodies?

'Oh sorry there, I'm urm John, I am just a friend of the house- used to live in your flat actually.'

'Oh' the boy replied, obviously fed up already. 'I'm James, but most people just call me Jim'

John nodded, then, sensing the awkward atmosphere, let Jim past on the stairs, continuing to walk down them and out of 221 b Baker street.


End file.
